


Starboy

by Thefanwhoran



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Angst, F/M, Grief, Loss, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, little bit of gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-27 14:41:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20950067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thefanwhoran/pseuds/Thefanwhoran
Summary: "It's my birthday today Hermione. And I decided to get myself a gift" he looked into her horrified eyes as he breathed over her lips."You"An otherworldly story told in three parts.Muggle AU





	1. Loss and Gain

**Author's Note:**

> I put up two chapters of this earlier and then took them down for reasons even I don't understand. Anyways I hope you like this.  
Chapter 2 up tomorrow.

Hermione Granger screamed as she felt the heat of the flames on her face. The fire looked like a demonic entity with tentacle-like flames erupting all over; anything that crossed their path swallowed by their fiery grip. she dissolved into a coughing fit, her lungs burning with smoke. Distant screams could be heard over the roar of the fire. Hermione cried, shielding herself as best as she could, while she searched for her parents in the rapidly crumbling house. She could hear her mother's screams calling out to her, telling her to leave the house, to save herself. But she could not leave them to die in the blazing inferno. She made her way to her parents' bedroom to find the door already on fire. She peaked from the window and saw her mother clutching her husband to her bosom. Hermione could see that her mother had a huge wound in her left leg, probably something burning had fallen on her, and she was also coughing profusely. her father, on the other hand, was unresponsive.

"Mom! Dad! Hang on, I'm coming," Hermione called out desperately. Her mother saw her then and tried to signal her to get out, but the woman was getting weaker. The lack of oxygen and abundant smoke rendering her lethargic an don the verge of losing consciousness. In utter desperation and running out of time, Hermione dragged a heavy chair from the dining room and with as much force as she could, swung the chair hard at the door. It flew open with a loud bang. Securing the blanket around herself, she started making her way towards her parents when she was suddenly grabbed from behind. "No! Let me go. Mom! Dad! she cried in anguish while her captor restrained her. "Let go, let go!" she howled while thrashing in their hold.

"We'll come back. We'll come back for them. We'll save them" the firefighter holding her tried to reassure her. He was much stronger than her and was soon dragging her out of the room. She caught her mother's eyes one last time as the dying woman mouthed to her daughter, '_Live for me, Darling.'_

No sooner had they stepped out of the two storyed house when with a sickening crash the house started to collapse. There was a loud explosion as the roof was thrown outwards. "Noo!!" the distressed girl cried. Hermione felt mad with grief, trying to force her way past the firemen who were blocking her as she tried to get back in the burning house. She had to go back. She had to save them. She had to save them.

But there was nothing to save. The house was gone. Two of its three occupants gone forever. All the belongings, everything that made the concrete structure a home were gone. All that was left behind was a grief-stricken and heartbroken orphan.

**A few hours later**

Hermione sat in the back of the ambulance, numb with shock. She was impervious to everything going on around her. All around her the world burned. Almost all the houses on either side of the road were on fire, those people lucky enough to have not been caught in the fire already had left their homes and were seeking the safety of the open, wide road. The leftover houses would soon enough go up in flames as well and no one wanted to stay for that. The firefighters had informed the people that at least four other blocks had been razed by the fire. Nobody knew the origin of the fire and the police and the firemen seemed to be fighting a losing battle against the unstoppable fire.

The past few hours were slowly catching up to Hermione. The impenetrable barrier of grief and loss that had surrounded her was suddenly pierced by a shrill cry. She looked around wildly, the cries were heartbreaking and they seemed to be coming from somewhere near. She followed the cries to another block and came across another house on fire. The house was partially gone. But the cries were now loud enough to be recognizable as belonging to a young child. Hermione chanced a look through a window but couldn't see the source of the wails. Circling the house, she finally spotted it. A babe nestled in a blanket in a crib. The room, the nursery she guessed, was remarkably intact, considering the rest of the house.

Hermione looked around, trying to spot someone who could help rescue the baby, but the street was deserted. Not a soul in sight. The baby's cries were now rising to fever pitch and she knew there wasn't much time left. Spotting a back door to the house, she decided that she would not let another soul be sacrificed to the raging demon wreaking havoc; especially not someone so pure and innocent. Still clutching her blanket around herself, she quickly got inside the house and headed for the baby's room.

Reaching the crib, she looked at the poor baby and wondered where its parents were. Had they left it alone? Had they also been consumed by the fire? Hermione wanted to search but knew it was a big risk. She had to get the baby out of here first. Then she could get someone to search for the parents. Hopefully, they were still alive. Sticking to her plan of action, she quickly ripped all the extra blankets and plushies from the crib until there was only one blanket left covering the baby. On the corner of the blanket she saw the name 'Tom' embroidered in bright red letters.

"Tom" she whispered. As if he could understand, the babe turned his eyes to her though he didn't stop crying. "Its okay baby boy, I got you, I'll keep you safe." She quickly picked up the baby and held him against her chest. Miraculously, the baby ceased his crying. She wrapped her blanket around him for added security and then quickly got out of the house. 

It was a long time later when the house was searched for survivors. And it was too late. The young couple in the house was already dead, their bodies completely burnt. Hermione cried with Tom in her arms, who was now sleeping against her shoulder. The two newly orphaned people seeking solace in each other.

―×―

Hermione had been in the makeshift hospital with Tom for two days already. When the fire had finally been controlled and the smoke started clearing, people were horrified to witness the aftermath. The fire had spread to almost ten blocks. _Ten blocks_. Around 70 houses had been completely decimated. Hundreds of people had been left homeless. And the worst part, the cause of the vicious fire still couldn't be determined. It looked as if the fire had spontaneously started and just spread around and continued to do so until it was finally satiated. People had lost everything. It was the worst tragedy in the modern history of the city.

The affected people were being registered at the makeshift hospital. Hermione had filled out forms for both herself and Tom. A nurse agar the hospital had assessed Tom and determined that he was indeed a newborn, as Hermione had initially suspected. He was barely a couple of days old. Hermione felt her heart breaking into a million pieces when she realized the precious baby would never get to know his parents. During her stay agar the camp, she had fed him, cleaned him, gave him comfort, sang lullabies to him, all by herself. She knew she had limited time with the boy before she had to let him go.

―×―

About a week later found Hermione going through some major life changes. Her parents' badly charred bodies were buried in the ground with the only people attending the funeral being herself, Tom and a few of their neighbors. She had contacted her parents' insurance company. Even though the house was gone, she still had inherited a considerable sum of money from her parents. She had rented a small one-bedroom apartment in the heart of the city for the time being. She also found herself the primary caretaker of little Tom. She had continuously contacted the authorities regarding the care of the orphaned neonate's care. But amid all the loss and damage, no one cared about one child. The plump woman responsible for registering the people had told Hermione she had two options. She could either leave Tom in the camp where he may or may not be well taken care of. Or she could keep him with her at least until they find a foster home for him. Hermione, knowing she would never let the poor child be put through neglectful care, decided on the latter option.

And that was how Hermione Granger found herself playing the role of a mother at the age of eighteen to a child that fate had dropped in her lap.


	2. Giving up

A month into their special living arrangements, Hermione started noticing some strange things about Tom. The most glaringly obvious thing being the rate with which he was growing. Hermione was no expert in the growth and development of babies but she was quite sure that no baby grew by around 25 inches and put on almost 15 pounds in just a month. He also ate a lot. She had to go through at least 20-25 bottles of milk a day to keep him from wailing in hunger every forty minutes or so. Though that could easily be attributed to his massive growth pattern. He was already looking like a six months old baby at just one-month-old.

Hermione had tried to figure out via research about what could be wrong with Tom. So far she had come up with nothing concrete. Sure some disorders could cause a baby to grow rapidly but this was beyond anything seen or recorded yet. And it wasn't just about his growth, he was reaching developmental milestones faster than any baby his age should. He was already able to sit up with support. No one-month-old baby could do that. Hermione suspected if he continued to grow at this rate he would be able to talk and walk in about a month or two. For now, she was using the data available to her to document his growth.

Tom was also what some would call a needy child. If Hermione got him in her lap or held him against her shoulders, he wouldn't let go. As soon as she tried to put him back in his crib, he would howl like he was in pain. It seemed that physical comfort was a necessity to him. She did most of her work with him strapped to her via a baby harness.

All of this was proving to be a big challenge for Hermione. Not only was she confused and worried about Tom, there was also the issue of his legal adoption. She had no idea what she would tell the authorities when they came to take him back. When she had Tom registered, he was just a newborn baby but now, she had no idea how to explain his unusual growth. Also, her neighbors were getting suspicious about the baby.

Taking everything into consideration, Hermione had come up with only one solution. With the money she had inherited, she bought a simple two-bedroom house in the far countryside. She had started working from home, editing and reviewing articles and blogs for various publications, occasionally writing some as well. The money was enough to sustain both of them. She had changed her contact number as well. If the authorities ever remembered about Tom, well she wouldn't be able to explain their situations to them anyway. The house was well protected by woods to provide privacy and that was how she wanted things to be.

Hermione was proven right in her speculations regarding Tom's developmental milestones. At three and half months old, he had already started talking (they were incoherent babbles more than anything) and could walk on his own without any problems. His appetite was just as voracious as ever. He would whine impatiently for his food and when he got it, would immediately proceed to drag her to a nearby chair where he would sit on her lap and then wolf down his food in an instant. His fondness for physical touch had also increased. Hermione would always encourage him to sleep in his bed in his room, but he would often sneak in her bed in the middle of the night and would sleep while being wrapped around her. Even though Hermione found it somewhat endearing, he had made her uncomfortable more times than she could count.

All in all, it wasn't that bad taking up the responsibilities and duties of a mother to an unknown child. But his abnormal growth was always in the back of her mind. Hermione had entertained the thought of him not being a human but had quickly dismissed it. He was a human, just an extraordinary one.

When Tom had hit the six months mark, which by his standards meant somewhere around four and half to five years old, was when things started to get weird. Now with his unusual growth also came inhuman speed and strength. He could climb twenty-foot high trees with no problem. He could race down a hill in seconds. He could carry heavy weights all by himself.

But if all these skills made Hermione just uncomfortable, it was nothing compared to the changes in his personality. He had acquired several quirks and personality traits, most of them negative. The most prominent one being aggression. He would become highly aggressive when things did not go his way. He would throw heavy furniture and generally ruin things.

His strength downright scared Hermione. When Tom was younger, he would ask for hugs and kisses. Now there was no asking. He just took what he wanted. One day when Hermione was working in the kitchen, he had come and hugged her around her stomach. She had politely asked him to move so she could prepare their food. When he didn't comply she had gently pushed him. He had then pushed her back, his little face etched with fury. Hermione did not know whether it was shock or his undeniable power, but he was easily able to push her on the couch in the living room. He then climbed in her lap, his arms going around her neck, his legs wrapped around her stomach and his head buried in her neck. After the initial shock had worn off, she started scolding him and trying to get him off her lap.

That was when his arms had tightened around her neck like a vice until she started choking. Tom didn't say anything but he had slightly slackened his hold. Hermione was so stunned that she didn't try to get him off her lap again. She just sat there with him snuggled in her arms.

For three hours.

He had hugged the life out of her for three hours straight. Hermione was quite sure she had only been able to move as he had finally fallen asleep. She had put him in his bed and tucked him in. She then locked herself in the bathroom and sat on the counter hyperventilating. She didn't know what was going on with Tom and she was deeply worried about him.

But as much as all his physical strength, his moods and behavior, and his sharp intellect bothered Hermione, she couldn't deny that she loved her little boy. In the few months he had been in her care, she had come to love him deeply and completely. When he wasn't in one of his destructive moods, he was an angel. His sweet was would be filled with childish curiosity. Whenever Hermione looked at him, his eyes expressed an emotion that had her beaming with pride and joy ― complete trust. And each time his beautiful voice called her 'Mummy', she thanked the Lord that on the devastating day she had lost her parents, she had also received her salvation in the form of the beautiful boy who changed her life.

And so it continued, with both of them helping each other, living with each other, living for each other.

Until one day it all changed.

When Tom turned eight months old (seven or seven half years maybe) was when he had made the connection that Hermione was not his real mother. He had one day brought up the subject very casually over breakfast.

"You are not my mother" he uttered suddenly. Hermione looked at him, surprised. It wasn't a question, it was a statement. She looked into his eyes. There was no accusation, no anger, no curiosity. He already knew the truth, he just wanted her to confirm it.

"No. I'm not your birth mother. I did not bring you into this world. But you are my world. I love you with everything I have. And I'll always love you no matter what happens" she replied. He looked at her a long time and then just nodded and resumed his breakfast.

It was also around this time that strange disappearances occurred in the town. That in itself was cause of concern. But what followed was a nightmare.

Bodies started turning up in the woods. Horribly mutilated bodies. The quaint little town had been shocked when more corpses turned up in just a week. The local news channels were quick to inform the general public that they had been in appalling conditions. There were bruises on them, like they had been beaten; there were scratches and claw marks on them; some of them even had a limb or two missing.

As if all this wasn't hair raising already, there was one thing consistent with all the bodies ― all had missing hearts and brains. It looked like the organs had been ripped out of their cavities.

The whole town was in terror by the attacks. The total body count had risen to around 8. Animal attacks as a cause had been ruled out. There were no bite marks and animals certainly don't steal brains and hearts for keepsakes.

Which only left one real possibility ― it was a human carrying out these deplorable crimes. The thought of a deranged serial killer was enough to send the little town towards a complete meltdown. People preferred to stay at their homes rather than being around the woods where they may just become the victims of a ruthless psychopath.

Hermione had already stocked her home with two months' worth of supply and had forbidden Tom from setting foot outside the home without her. He was beyond pissed but it was for his safety and her peace of mind.

One night, one terrifying night, her world came crashing down when she finally discovered the identity of the killer. Hermione had been on her way to the kitchen at about three AM in the morning to fetch some water for herself. Even being half-asleep, she decided to check on Tom. When she went to his room, he wasn't there. She checked the bathroom and the kitchen but he wasn't there either. Starting to worry, she searched the entire house up and down but there was no sign of her boy.

Now growing numb with dread, Hermione was losing her mind. Unwanted thoughts and images flashed in mind. Images of her little boy with lifeless eyes, his heart and brain missing. _Oh God no, please not again_. _Not my baby. Not again_. Hermione prayed to every deity she knew as she whispered _not again_ over and over.

Then she noticed a bright light from the window in the dining hall. It appeared to be coming from the forest. Now full-on panicking, she ran towards the light. It was red in color and the whole forest was bathed in a red hue. Following the lighter deeper into the woods, she came across a scene which would forever be burned in her memories.

Tom, her boy, her baby boy was levitating - _levitating_ in mid-air. A broken man lay before him. Whether he was alive or not, she couldn't tell. Then Tom flicked his wrist and the man was sent soaring through the air and with a grotesque crunch, his body collided with a thick tree trunk. A pained groan escaped the man. She couldn't see Tom's face as he was behind him but she was sure there would be gleeful hatred etched on his face. But the man was alive and maybe she could still save him. So Hermione crept forward so she could talk to her son.

Before she could do just that, Tom started lowering to the ground. He looked like an angel of death descending from heaven. Which wasn't that far fetched comparison really because deep down in her heart Hermione knew that's exactly what was waiting for the poor man - death.

And suddenly she knew who was responsible for all those deaths, those bodies. As if all her nightmares had come to life, Hermione watched in horrifying fascination, unable to look away, as Tom put his hand on the man's chest and _ripped his heart out straight from its cage in the man's body._

Ready to faint, she watched in absolute horror as Tom brought the stolen organ to his lips and started feasting on it. He let out a moan of pleasure and if Hermione knew anything about him, his eyes would be rolled back just like they were prone to when he ate his favorite chocolate chips pancakes.

But these were not chocolate chips pancakes, this was a man's heart. The gravity of the situation dawned on her and bolted from there, heart pounding loudly. Adrenaline fueled her muscles and she raced back to the house in no time. She promptly locked herself in the bathroom and once the rush of the run left her system, she fainted.

―×―

In the weeks following the horrific incident in the woods which she bore witness to, things had been going uneasy in the house. Tom had been overtly affectionate, demanding her attention all the time. While she was decidedly uncomfortable and wanted to stay as far away from him as possible. Any illusions she had of him being a bit unusual but fully human, had long since fled. He was decidedly not human. The jury was still out on what he was though.

It had gotten to the point where it seemed that Hermione was in a constant nightmare. She was getting barely any sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, memories of _that_ night would assault her. And also the cause of her distress decided that he would sleep in her bed nearly every day. So she couldn't afford to sleep.

Hermione had decided that it could not go on any longer. She had to do something. She had to let go.

She had somehow convinced Tom to take a cross country trip citing a need to be away from their home for some time (which wasn't exactly a lie). Do they had packed their bags and taken the flight.

Three days into their vacation, came the day when Hermione Granger had committed the most abhorrent act of her life. She had laced her son's dinner with a strong sedative. During the middle of the night, when he was sleeping soundly, dead to the world, she scooped him in her arms. Even after all she had seen, she'll never be able to deny the comfort and joy she got when she lifted him. And now with his face angelic in sleep, she couldn't associate this face with the person who had cannibalized a man in the forest.

Hermione almost didn't do what she had planned to do. Almost. She certainly did not _want_ to do it. But she went through with it anyways.

And so she checked out of the hotel, had the housekeeping boy put their stuff in the rental car and then put Tom in the backseat and drove off. All the while, the little boy slept on, innocent to his fate.

Hermione stopped in front of a battered building. _Wool's Orphanage_ written in faded letters could be read on the banner. With her heart shattering with every step she took, Hermione finally reached the front entrance. Taking out a blanket from her bag, she spread it on the ground and laid Tom on it. She placed his bag and a handwritten note on the ground beside him. The note read _Please take care of him. His name is Tom_.

With a gentle kiss on his forehead, Hermione bid goodbye to yet another precious person in her life. She ran the doorbell several times to ensure somebody would come quickly to take her boy in.

She stayed hidden in the shadows long enough to see a woman answer the door, take a look at the boy lying on the floor. She read the note and looked around to see if she could spot the person responsible. When she found no one, she heaved a sigh and then took him inside.

When the door closed it felt like fantom hands had clawed her body and ripped out her heart. Or maybe she didn't have a heart which would explain the unspeakable evil she had just committed. It was worse than the feeling she had when her parents had died.

Hermione didn't know how she held herself up the entire trip to the airport because every cell in her body was screaming for her turn back and take her baby away from a cruel life. As soon as she was seated on the plane and the 'fasten seatbelts' sign was off, she locked herself in the bathroom and let out the most gut-wrenching and agonizing sobs anyone on the planet might not have ever heard.

Her life was empty, her home was empty, and now her heart was empty. There was just a void in her in the place where feelings, emotions, _love_ should be.

―×―

A few months later when the first anniversary of her parents' death came, Hermione laid in her bed, Tom's baby blanket, the one with his name on it, wrapped in her arms. Her mind flashed a series of images in front of her. _Her parents burnt bodies... The little face looking up to her from a crib... Her mother's overjoyed face when she won the spelling competition... A happy boy slurping his milkshake... Her father's pride at her graduation ceremony... Her baby boy calling out 'mummy' as loud as he could._

There was no one to hear her sobs, not even a single soul who could hold her hand and comfort the unfortunate girl who had lost everything. No one.

Because that's what she deserved. Soul crushing loneliness. It was her penance, her punishment for the sin she had committed. A sin for which there would be no mercy, no salvation, no deliverance.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think.


End file.
